Jack: Klutz Extraordinaire
by Bug Ugly
Summary: A snippet of a larger work in progress: Jack, as usual, is in a smidge of trouble. Things never go well for an Evil Genius, even after growing up. From cliffs to concussions... he has it rough. No pairings, mild violence, JackandChasecentric.


**Disclaimer**: _I, in no way, shape, or form own Xiaolin Showdown or the characters it contains. All are the intellectual property of Christy Hui and Cartoonnetwork/WB. I do not make any profit off of this story, and write it only for enjoyment and to pass the time. However, I do claim ownership to the writing itself, and hope that those who read this can respect that as well._

(Disregarding all the other junk because this is a snippet)

**Additional Notes:** Chase strikes me as the possessive type. XD, this is a sort of apology for the lack of updates to MBH. I have another project underway (but I'll finish MBH first), which this is something of a potential part of. I don't want to give too much away, so I'll shut up. Expect an update to the main story between the first and the ninth – _waaay_ too much homework on my plate to consider doing otherwise.

Enjoy.

**Jack: Klutz Extraordinaire and Living Punching Bag**

---

_Well. This is not good._

So thought Jack as the youth dangled precariously upon the lip of the chasm, the only support for his weight the decidedly loose stone he wrapped his hands around. It was a surreal experience; the world seemed so calm and serene encircled him, even as his life, literally, hung in the balance. Above was the azure sky, highlighted by fluffy clouds spread thinly around the edges like the wispy hair of an old man. Below, the ground beckoned, a pencil-thin line of a river curling around rocks and trees, a blue serpent weaving its way to the sea. Somewhere, a bird sang a cheerful ditty in hopes of an answer. Of course, Jack wasn't paying close attention to the scenery.

Carefully swinging his legs forward, he scrabbled against the rough rock, seeking any hold that could push him clear of the awkward predicament. Unfortunately, all he managed was to further jar his position, the little protrusion he clutched to sliding ever-so-slightly outward.

Slowing his erratic motions, the teen trembled, glancing every which way for a more reliable handhold. In every direction, only shallow crevices were to be revealed within reaching distance: nothing of use to a nearly panic-stricken Spicer.

He gulped, fingers tightening reflexively.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't— 

Predictably, he looked.

_Ah, hell._

Whimpering, Jack jerked his head back up, yelping when the stone loosened further. Above, there was a faint skittering of stones, some small gravel particles raining down to land in his vibrant hair. Craning his neck back, the boy looked up to a half-smirking mouth and amused golden eyes.

"Ready to ask for help?" Chase Young purred delicately, leaning down to get a clear view of Jack's problematic dilemma.

"_No_. I am doing fine," Jack managed to grunt, feet again scratching at the wind-worn cliff. "I just… I'm just a little stuck, is all."

"Hmm," the ambiguous response hummed from above, though it was rather obvious that the warrior was not agreeing with Spicer's sentiment. Chase again withdrew, departure heralded with another hailing of tiny stones.

Jack growled at the retreating warlord, attempting to wedge the toe of his shoe into a narrow fissure. It barely fit. Still, gladdened for the meager support, Jack settled some of his weight upon that tenuous hold, shoulders aching at the change in position.

A sudden, vivid image of him tumbling back into that infinite space that lay below had him whimpering once more, pressing tightly to the jagged stone as if to merge with the very earth itself.

Very still, despite the occasional tremor that attempted to dislodge him, he dangled, helplessly over the daunting plunge. For the life of him, he couldn't move a muscle willingly.

But he _had_ to _move _to get out of the mess.

Bolstering his tiny reserve of courage, the young man released his death grip on the jutting rock with one hand, quickly reaching up to hook his fingers in the deepest cranny he could see, wincing when the tiny edges pushed painfully into the sensitive pads of his fingertips. But it was a good enough grip; he hauled himself up somewhat, awkwardly lurching.

_Stupid, crazy bastard, _he inwardly ranted, nearly spread-eagled as he fought for leverage to get further up. _I mean, really, dropping off a guy off a cliff. 'Catch yourself' indeed. When I get up there… _He paused, panting, and half lunged up, scrabbling at a slight deviation in the stone. Miraculously, he didn't topple back, and managed to retain his grip with his other hand._ I'm going to do something drastic._

"My, you're taking a long time. Have you moved at all?" Again, that smug voice lilted down to him, over the sound of rustling leaves, stirred by the thankfully gentle wind.

Peevishly, Jack mimicked the ancient being's quirks, arching a brow comically to parody what was surely Chase's expression. "I _have_ moved, for your information. At least… a foot and a half." He grunted when he slipped slightly, and had to fight for his position. After a shaky moment of labored breathing and calming of his racing heart, he felt safe enough to snap, "And what the _hell_ was running through what remains of your mind when you decided to drop me down here?"

"Language, Spicer."

"Whatever," He rolled his eyes, flicking out his lithe tongue in childish rebellion.

"And don't make a frog of yourself," Chase chastised, peering over the edge once more. "It's hardly flattering." He simply smirked at the glower Jack made, settling back onto his heels. "As for my reasoning, it remains in my own counsel. If you are too inept to understand this exercise, it is of no fault of mine, but merely your own idiocy that prevents you from knowing."

_Only a couple of feet to go. A few more… then I can sock him._

"Oh, aren't we just _so_ mysterious!" The youth hissed, pushing up with his left foot. But there was nothing to rest it against, putting severe strain on his other limbs. Still, he managed to grimly pull himself up, taking a moment to gasp out, "Let me ponder your intense _inscrutability_ while I cling on for dear life. My, what a pleasant way to spend the—"

He slipped, yowling in terror, struck with a vibrant image of the ground rushing up to meet him, breaking his frail body against the earth that was so very far below.

Something yanked hard on the back of his shirt, halting that dizzying plummet before it truly got underway. Choking on the digging collar, he felt himself lifted so quickly it left his head spinning, legs kicking uselessly at the unresponsive air.

"That would have been a rather nasty fall," Chase observed in the warbling timbre of his lizard voice, unceremoniously depositing Jack on the ground beside him even as he let go of the transformation. Completely unconcerned with the shell-shocked state of his minion, the immortal man leaned far out, staring down the length of the potential death trap as if noticing it for the first time. "Rather nasty indeed."

Jack's mouth couldn't seem to work out exactly how to form words, reducing him to inanely stuttering meaningless sounds, eyes wide and round as he stared at the deeply fascinating length of Young's leg armor. Under normal circumstances he was quite resilient to potential death – but there was something about nearly plunging to one's undoubted death that really took it out of a guy.

"What's that? I'm afraid I don't speak gibberish." Chase gave up on staring down the chasm, and turned an amused eye to the stupefied youth beside him.

_I could have died, _is what Jack thought. Unfortunately, his mind didn't quite read the message right, and managed to send the garbled thought to his mouth, enabling him to maladroitly stutter, "I w-was d-d-doing just fi-_fine_ until y-you—" He found himself unable to finish the sentence, as he was again inhibited by the strained collar of his shirt.

Jack gagged, staring with wild-eyed horror at the seemingly endless expanse that patiently waited beneath his madly swinging legs. Gurgling in protest, the youth twisted around in that relentless hold, hands blindly reaching up to cling at the solid length of Chase's arm, fingers sliding against the slickness of his armor.

"Would you like to back up that claim with a second drop?" Young asked mildly, swinging his arm threateningly.

Shaking his head so fast his vision blurred, Jack managed to pull himself up to a level that he was able to take enough pressure off his jugular to squeak out, "N-no sir!"

Being very distracted for the moment, Jack missed the sly grin Chase gave him. "Oh, I don't know. You _have_ been getting rather cocky lately, Spicer. Maybe a helpless tumble down a few feet will help you to remember your place, hmm?" He drawled slowly, voice husky with apparent boredom.

_That _got the youth's attention.

Jack turned his horrified gaze to the calm warrior's face, in his panic pulling himself up higher. "No, p-please, don't do that, Chase! I- I'm sorry, I won't be anymore, I promise, but please, please, _please_ don't drop me again!" babbling so fast Chase could barely understand him, Jack again began to swing his legs in a desperate bid for support, hysteric as he pleaded for his life.

Chase rolled his eyes, snorting as he tossed the boy back to safety over one shoulder. "It would be in your best interest to develop a sense of humor, Spicer."

For once not responding with some snarky, sarcastic remark, Jack lay face down, breathing fast. The exhalation sent little swirls of dust up from his mouth, some of the fine particles settling upon his lips. The horrifying image of the empty space beneath him would not cease to replay in his head, over and over again, firmly overriding all thought.

Young, meanwhile, waited for some trademark retort, patiently folding his arms behind his back as he stared out into the austere, blue sky. When no pithy jab was forthcoming, he deigned to glance back, quite surprised that Jack was curled up tightly around his waist, shaking wildly.

"Don't be such a _baby_," Chase scoffed, ambling about to face the huddled ball of teenaged misery. When the cajoling didn't work, he furthered the statement, adding reassurance. "I wouldn't have let you fall."

Tilting his head up jerkily, Jack gave him a long, incredulous look before blurting, "H-how was _I _supposed to know t-that?" His teeth clattered maddeningly behind the words.

"It is only to be assumed," Young took his time with the words, as if the jaundiced teen were incapable of understanding normal English, "That you would realize by this point that _I_ am not in the habit of tossing away resources or allies, unlike yourself. Obviously, I would have done _something_ to cease your fall."

"This coming from the man who has dropped me off so many ledges to a dubious end that I have lost count," Jack managed to hiss, clenching his jaw to stop the annoying clicking of his teeth. His cheeks ached from the effort, however, and he soon gave up the task, shakily sitting up. "Completely without reason, it seems, other than his own entertainment. Real believable, that."

"Pah," Chase grunted quietly, and started walking away. "On your feet; we have places to go." He did not miss the grumbling complaints of his minion, but decided to let Jack have his moment. It was much safer to let him _think _he was getting away with something trivial than to let his rebellious tendencies build up, resulting in some disaster. Still, he was quite satisfied by the scrunch of sneakers on dirt as Jack scurried up to follow after him.

Experimentally, he called back, "Do try to keep up, Spicer." And was rewarded by a swiftening of step as Jack scampered forward to obey.

He was careful to keep his pleased smirk well out of Jack's range of vision. No need to let the boy get arrogant with the thought of his approval.

---

"Where arewe going?" Jack whined petulantly, stumbling for the umpteenth time upon the roots that seemed designed to catch passersby unawares. "Or is this just for the so-called pleasure of walking?"

"And what's wrong with taking a stroll?" Chase asked sardonically from ahead, noting the gap between them but not bothering to slow his pace. "It's a sunny, warm day, Spicer. It wouldn't be that terrible to actually _enjoy_ nature, would it?"

"_Nature _is outside," Jack grumbled, forcing his aching legs to widen their stride to catch up with his overlord. "Whereas _I_ should be inside. I mean, really, I get all the _nature _I need from the Discovery—" He broke off with a startled yip and a rather painful sounding _thunk_.

"Watch out for roots, boy," he snarled, irate at Spicer's seemingly innate clumsiness. No matter what he did to cure the youth of it, the inept little fool would not—

"What can you do about it?" A rich, sultry voice that was definitely _not_ Jack's asked archly.

Chase whirled about, surprised.

Wuya sneered, coming out of her attacking stance with a flick of her wild red hair. "Frankly, Spicer's the most awkward thing on two legs I've ever seen." Her laugh was throaty and deep, rippling with scorn. "Klutzy little boy."

Chase tore his furious gaze from the witch, reminded of his missing ward. He scanned the forest only briefly, easily catching sight of the ever-colorful youth against the moderate hues of brown and green. He felt his mouth tighten in a harsh line as he took stock of the boy.

Jack lay crumpled against a slightly bent trunk; head slumped down on his chest, groaning as he came to. An angry black-red splotch was already forming on one cheek, intimately hugging around the edge of his left eye.

The warrior felt himself snarling, his hackles rising in his rage while the dragon inside writhed for release. Spicer was _his_ – his alone to touch and disparage! How _dare _that insolent wench strike what was not hers. Oh, he would _enjoy_ tearing that offending arm right out of her shoulder, watching her squirm, feel her scream as he wrapped his hands around that slight throat, crushing her windpipe with leisurely squeeze…

"Mine," He heard himself rumble, possessively, under his breath. Wrathful eyes narrowed hatefully at the witch. A second time, much louder, he growled, "_Mine._"

"Now, now," Wuya sneered at the warlord, confident in herself enough to even scoff a little. "Watch your temper, Chase. You wouldn't want anything… _unfortunate_, to happen to little Jackie, now would you?"

He blinked, and did a surreptitious double take. Jack was still lying at the base of the tree, head rolling awkwardly….

He then noted the thin red glow that encased the young man, the subtle sign of the Shen Gong Wu's influence.

Wuya snickered, waving the Ruby of Ramses in one delicate, tanned hand. "I could break his neck if I wanted to – faster than even the great Chase Young could move."

Chase felt his insides go cold as Jack yelped, head lurching aside in a warning movement intended to cow the unpredictable warrior. His hands curled into fists, a useless gesture of impotent fury. The incensed warlord spasmed once, barely retaining the control necessary to withhold the monster inside him – though his hair became shaggier, spiking up in a way reminiscent of the frill of the beast he was. Teeth bared in a grimace that promised no small amount of pain when he eventually caught his antagonist, he riveted his seething gaze upon the offending woman, barking out, "_What do you want, witch_?" with sharply accented syllables.

Wuya recognized the thin line she walked, and wisely chose not to agitate him further, becoming quite serious. "Hand over the Half, Young; I _know_ you have it with you." She held out her free hand, accenting her demand with the audacious gesture.

"No," Chase growled, automatically.

He barely managed to check himself when Jack cried out, arm wrenching awkwardly while his delicate bones creaked in protest of the unnatural motion. Both the youth and Wuya were too far away for Chase to get to in time; the gap had been too wide. And even if he could manage to get to Spicer first, they would still be in range of the Ruby of Ramses long enough for Wuya to kill the boy. It was an impossible situation.

Realizing how very vulnerable he had made himself by allowing his minion to come out with him, Chase subtly trembled in barely constrained rage. With a tremendous effort, her resisted his ferocious desire to _attackmaimhurtkill_, and composed himself into that inscrutable tranquility. "Very well. You may take it," he hurled the Half straight at the wretched woman, snarling when she managed to catch it with her free hand. "And enjoy it while you may; I'll be coming back for it _very_ soon." His insincere smirk was made feral by the presence of his elongated canines, glinting dully in the pleasant sunlight.

Wuya smiled fetchingly in return, and Spicer was suddenly chucked straight at the warlord at a breathtaking speed.

Chase spun with the stiff body as it hit him, whirling around with Jack neatly cuddled in his arms. Quick to move his reacquired property out of harm's way, Young flipped the youth under one arm, setting him down behind him with a warning hiss to stay put before refocusing on his adversary. He bristled, ready to lunge forward and rend her head from her shoulders should she make a single move toward him or his minion.

Wuya cackled, holding both Wu in her hands even as she sidled back, unusually pragmatic. "A pleasure, as always, Chase. We look forward to seeing you again." With the final word, she disappeared into the underbrush, and was gone within moments.

Breathing shallowly, mouth ajar to better hear, Chase waited for several long moments, every sense pointedly seeking that bold wretch that had so tempted fate mere seconds before. But Wuya was prudent; already long gone, like as much.

Cautiously eyeing the surrounding area once more, Chase turned about to face his battered possession, frustration palpable in his glinting eyes despite his nearly serene facial expression.

Jack tottered unsteadily, carefully holding his hand over the bruise, still rather shocked that he had been caught so thoroughly unawares. He flinched at the seething glare directed at him, thinking it was a silent rebuke for being so foolish, and hunched his shoulders in a vain attempt to ward off the inevitable blow. "Sorry," he murmured thickly, hoping that perhaps his overlord could be sated by the simple apology. When Chase's stormy glower did not change, he elaborated, ignoring the strangely dizzy sensation mucking about in his head. "M'sorry I let her get the drop on…." The world seemed to wobble, and he reeled, rocking back on his heels.

Chase's hands were on his shoulders in an instant, steadying the dazed youth. Unsurprisingly, Jack recoiled, entire body tensing at the contact, getting ready for the first strike.

The warlord frowned sternly at the tightness of the bony shoulders that he held. _Such a distrusting child, _he thought, eyes flicking over to the left side of Spicer's face. Irrational anger rose up in him, but he managed to control it before it could properly manifest itself, and put a unexpectedly gentle hand over the one that hid the bruise. "Let me see it," He said with his usual gruffness, trying to not betray any of his roiling emotions of earlier in regards to his injured Jack. The rigidly controlled demeanor, however, was quite strained, but Spicer could hardly tell – frankly, the boy wasn't very observant under the best of circumstances. That was a convenient flaw – it wouldn't do for Jack to know how deeply it had shaken the warrior to think that he might have lost him.

Wary, Jack slid the offending appendage away, wincing when Chase's own deft fingers explored the vacated space a moment later. "Quite a smack," the older man muttered, eyes darkening with some obscure emotion. "Something must be done about it."

Spicer misread the comment; cringing at the sensitive way Chase was handling the blackened bruise. Gentleness preceding violence was always the worst. "I didn't mean to let my guard down. I'm sorry—"

"_Hush_," Young commanded harshly, voice _just _on this side of a snarl. Jack's mouth slammed shut obediently, going very still as he waited to see what would happen. Sighing, Chase moved to tenderly cup his cheek, careful to avoid the edges of the blemish. Despite Jack's amateurish attempt to hide his fear, as always, his emotions and thoughts were clearly displayed to the shrewd warrior. "Do not speak if you do not know what you are speaking _of_, Spicer."

Baffled, Jack remained silent, still uncertain of what the unpredictable man would do. Moments ticked by sluggishly, the two stuck in a strange tableau. But, when no further response was forthcoming, he attempted to slink out of that uncomfortably vulnerable position Chase had put him in, freezing in sudden fear when Young's iron grip tightened on his shoulder.

"_No,_" Chase rumbled, possessively drawing the startled boy closer despite the whimper of protest. "No; you will stay near me until we return home." His dragon eyes roamed the surrounding area distrustingly, as if the trees themselves were all enemies laying in ambush, waiting for him to drop his guard and snatch Jack away from him. Unconsciously, he clenched down harder on the youth with the thought, eliciting a little gasp of pain from the captured goth.

Scowling, Chase loosened his death grip somewhat, but did not allow Jack to put any sort of distance between them. He needed to _know _that Spicer was out of reach of the myriad of potential threats – know by feeling him warm and alive right up against him.

"Um, o-_kay_," Jack mumbled quietly, cheek pressed right up against Chase's chest, not daring to make any movement that might provoke the dangerous martial arts master. _This is… awkward. Cuddling with a lizard in a man suit. … PMS much, Chase? _He wisely decided to forgo sharing the amusing thought, hands twitching uneasily as they splayed against Chase's breastplate. The backdrop of trees lurched threateningly, dizziness causing the startled youth to further lean against the inflexible expanse of body-warmed armor. When the moment of unsteadiness passed, he decided that it had been going on for far too long, and fidgeted uncertainly, eyes flicking up to see Chase's chin. "Uh, you know we have to, um, _move_,to have that happy going home plan be in effect, right?"

Chase grunted in response, begrudgingly relinquishing his hold on the youth. Still warily eyeing the innocuous landscape, he spun Jack around, leaving his hands on the youth's arched shoulders. "Walk."

Thoroughly befuddled, Jack did so, expecting to amble out of the unusual contact. However, Chase maintained his hold, matching his pace with Spicer's stumbling own, resulting in an odd sort of marching effect.

It was a rather absurd scene- one that any passerby (though unlikely a passerby they would be) would at least do a double take over: a sulking, starkly colored youth held by a man in archaic armor as if he were an unruly child before a stern adult; tottering this way and that as they moved through the cheerful forest.

… Though the age difference between them seemed to be ever diminishing as the years flashed by.

At every bird twitter, the gloved fingers would tighten, whipping the often-startled boy out of the way of the imaginary harm. A branch crackling resulted in an angry snarl and bruises. When an unfortunate sparrow dived down near the pair… suffice to say, it wasn't a pretty scene.

Jack had had enough by the eighth time he had been bodily ripped off the ground – he felt sick and confused and _woozy_ and fatigued as all hell, and Chase's hovering was _not_ helping. Pivoting on his heel to glower at the paranoid warlord, he did his best to look intimidating, though that sickening, ever-growing weariness pounded in his head, made his knees go weak. Still, he was rather proud of himself when his voice didn't quaver. "Enough with the nanny routine, okay? I mean, _Jebus crimony_, I can freaking walk on my—" He broke off with a gasp, as, when Chase removed his support, he staggered aside, unable to completely hold his own weight. Throwing out an arm to steady himself against a lean sapling, the youth blinked rapidly, forcing the world back into focus.

When it did, he wasn't sure if he preferred it that way.

To put it crudely, Chase looked pissed.

"You are concussed," Jack knew it was not a question, and did not bother to respond directly. He already felt… disoriented, _weird_ – an argument would just add to the pounding headache he had been developing since getting intimate with Wuya's sucker punch. "You little _fool_ – why did you say nothing?"

"What, you didn't notice the drunken swagger?" Jack tried to snark off, but blanched after a wan sneer, taking a shaky, ragged breath to brace himself. "I'm not exactly a certified doctor, y'know – so forgive the… lack of… _ergh_." He shook his head to clear it, hating the way the ground wavered and quaked under his feet afterward. "What were we talking about?"

He yelped as he was swung around to rest under Chase's arm, staring at the dusty patch of earth beside the warrior's foot. "Hey—"

"This will be much faster," The irate warlord cut off the beginnings of an indignant protest, hitching the boy up a little higher to allow more freedom of movement on his part. "Foolish child. I had hoped to simply walk into range; we are not close enough for a direct jump—" Jack felt the arm around his waist stiffen, and subsequently became rather anxious, craning his head back up in a vain attempt to gauge Young's expression.

"Jump-?" He broke off with a rather girlish scream when the surrounding landscape dissolved, broken like a reflection in a disturbed puddle. "_Oh_, I think I'm gonna be sick," He groaned from around his fist as he shoved it in his own mouth to stop the dry heaves when the solid ground reaffirmed itself in the form of a desert.

"Get any on my armor, and I'll leave you out here for the vultures to deal with," Chase responded archly, preparing himself for another go 'round.

Jack felt the fortifying tightening of Chase's body, and wailed out piteously, "Wait—"

This time, Jack moaned long and low, writhing in Chase's resolute grip as soon as they stopped. "Put me down, _ah_, man, _please _put me _down_." The request was met with stony silence as for the third time, the universe decided to go all flippy-floppy on him.

The intimidating, dark stone 'veranda' of Chase's lair filled his vision. His stomach still dancing from the jarring effects of teleporting, Jack thought it was as good a time as any to break free of the hold on him, twisting away violently – surprised when Chase released him without complaint.

He hit the ground on his side, rolling with the motion to lessen the blow. It did nothing to help with his condition, however, as soon evidenced by a despondent moan and hiccough combination.

"Oh, _God-_" He clutched at his roiling belly, ears ringing oddly in counterpart to the general fuzziness of his brain. Still, one sensation came through _quite _clearly. Barely managing to roll onto his hands and knees in time, Jack retched, shuddering. "_Ewwwww_," he gasped a moment before violently dry heaving, entire body jerking forward.

After the initial spell of nausea was over, he felt breathtakingly weak throughout all his limbs. Elbows slackening, he would have tipped forward into his own vomit had not Chase grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him out of the way.

"I'm gonna _die_," the boy groaned, curling into a fetal position, shivering as the shocking effect of queasiness seemed to leech all warmth out of his body. "T-this is it, I'm done. I'm dead. Oh, man, didja have to _do_ that?"

"Forgive me for not catering to your weak stomach," Chase said disgustedly, pointedly staring out over the abrupt edge of his home to the distant clouds. Then, awkwardly, "Are you quite finished?"

There was a long pause, punctuated by ragged breaths, before, "Yeah, I think I— egh, never mind." Spicer rolled over again, hacking dryly. Nothing came up that time, at least. "… Alright, _now_ I'm done."

"Good," Chase grunted, reaching down to hoist the boy up from under his skinny arms. But it was just as useful trying to get cooked noodles to stand; Jack wobbled as if on a newborn colt's legs, sagging in the warrior's grip. Frustrated, Young entertained the thought of simply leaving him outside to crawl in once he felt up to it, but a brief glimpse of the very dark bruise destroyed all hope of that happy fantasy coming to fruition.

Instead, he again cradled the frail little body in his arms, despite the reek of recent sickness, and quickly strode into his lair, making a beeline for the stairs. A few of the large cats appeared from various points, flanking their master as he made his way toward Spicer's designated room. He kicked open the door, having no patience to speak of for the moment, and crossed the chamber in a few long strides, swiftly (if gently) depositing the half-conscious teen on the bed.

The warlord made to leave, but something gave him pause.

"Bah," he told no one in particular, leaning down to take Jack's shirt in both hands, tugging the offending item off. No easy task, when dealing with someone as thoroughly limp as a concussed boy genius, but he managed nonetheless. From there, he jerked off the boy's shoes, deciding to leave the jeans on to preserve Jack's fragile sense of morality, and dropped the clothing on the floor. The boy could clean up once he awoke.

He again turned to leave, but hesitated at a tiny whimper, tossing an inscrutable look over an armored shoulder. Jack shivered, quite obviously chilled.

Harrumphing, Chase again approached the bedside, and wrenched the blanket out from under Spicer's prone form, draping it over that oh-so-tiny body. Giving in to impulse, he even carefully removed those gaudy goggles, hanging them on the bedpost. "What a garish thing," he told the unresponsive teen, idly considering tossing them while Jack couldn't object. But no; he had a feeling that the foolish child would go after them no matter where they were hidden. He was strange like that.

Spicer was just plain _strange_.

There was something pestering him, though. Something… ah.

Chase stooped again, gathering the removed shirt – still tepid with Jack's warmth – in one hand, and gruffly cleaned the youth's face before tossing it back to the floor. "That's going to be an awful taste in the morning, Spicer." He murmured, petting the fiery red hair away from the lad's eyes. "I'll be back in a few hours, to check on you."

Feeling decidedly more discomfited than he had in centuries, Chase patted the youth once, mouth twitching with a half formed smirk when Jack nestled deeper into the blankets with a disjointed mumble of protest.

Task completed, the warlord again turned about, giving his cat-warriors a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Watch the door; no one enters or leaves, save myself."

The handful of assembled jungle cats made the feline equivalent of a grunt in response, settling down to their haunches to obey their master's order. Satisfied, he quit the room, resisting the urge to glance back once more. He was _not _going to play the nursemaid to a spoiled teenager, after all.

Discreetly, the sleek specimens of feline grace huffed out their version of a subdued chuckle, and settled their heads onto their paws for a long nap.

---

15


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